Lose a leg and get a brother
by Target Zero
Summary: Slightly AU. While Sam is away at Standford, Dean takes on a hunt alone and is injured. Before he has time to completly heal, he's off on a new hunt. Things go from bad to worse with just one false floor board. Please R/R Written by Kaze-Chan
1. Chapter 1 Birthday presents

« Well well well. Look at what the werewolf dragged in. » Bobby chuckled as he watched Dean Winchester lift himself out of the impala.

Bobby's smile quickly disappeared as he watched the young man falter. He didn't fail to notice how pale Dean looked; his movements, slow and sluggish. Dean winced in pain as he stood to his full height, his hands instinctively holding the car for support. "yeah, yeah. Laugh it up old man." Slowly, Dean limped his way to the front porch, paying extra attention to his left leg. Bobby grew instantly worried as he watched Dean sway slightly, the remaining colour draining from his face.

"You okay?" Bobby stepped forward to offer a steady hand. Uncharacteristically, the younger man took it, glad to be rid of his own weight.

Dean concentrated on his breathing "Just a little run in with a black dog. Damn thing nearly tore my leg off." He shut his eyes to stop the spinning as he let the older man hold him up. Bobby noticed the hospital bracelet still around Dean's right wrist, finally putting two and two together.

"Kid, I would have come pick you up if you'd have called." Bobby helped him up the stairs and into the living room. Exhausted from the drive, Dean lowered himself on the couch, not ever bothering to take his coat or boots off. His leg was hurting and he hoped that he hadn't pulled any of the stitches. He closed his eyes against a second wave of dizziness.

"Here, take these." Dean pried his eyes open. Bobby stood there offering him a glass of water and two painkillers. He swallowed them easily and washed them down with the water. Bobby brought him a blanket and a pillow to make him more comfortable. It didn't take long for the exhausted youth to fall asleep. "What the hell am I going to do with you." Bobby mused as he watched the sleeping Winchester.

* *****

It took a few days for Dean to get his colour back. It took a few more days before he was able to walk around without feeling like he was going to pass out with every step. Luckily, the drive hadn't pulled any stitches and his leg was recovering nicely. As far as Bobby knew, John had no idea what had happened for the simple fact that he wasn't here yelling at Dean for screwing up a hunt. That being said, he wasn't going to be the one to call John and tell him. Dean would be ready to go in a few weeks or so, good as new. Besides from what little Bobby knew of the Winchester family dynamics, his father probably wouldn't even notice his absence. For now, he needed a little rest and relaxation.

Walking the junk yard with Dean brought back a lot of old memories for the old trucker. Dean was never one to sit still for more than an hour. Bobby could still remember how chaotic it had been babysitting Sam and Dean when they were little. Though at first Dean didn't talk much to anyone other than Sam, the youth had more then enough energy to make up for it. He would always be outside racing through the junkyard causing Bobby more than one panic moment. Sam on the other hand had always been shy and would follow his older brother until he was too tired to keep up.

The only person who had ever noticed Dean's absence was his little brother Sam but that had all changed the night Sam announced he was accepted at Stanford. Bobby hadn't been there the night Sam left for college but from what he was able to piece together from the other two, it hadn't been pretty. Bobby shuddered at the memory of how Dean had been in those first few weeks. It was almost like he had no idea what to do with himself now that his little brother wasn't following him around 24/7. John spent most of his time away or drunk. The trucker had the distinct impression that Dean and John had stopped speaking to each other for that brief period.

Bobby sighed. Who needed tv drama when you lived with the Winchesters?

***

"Hey Dean, before I forget, I got a package for you." Bobby got up to rummaged through the front closet. Dean's eyebrows arched in surprise, he never received any mail let alone a package. For that to happen, he would have to stay in the same place for more than a week and have someone who cared enough to send him something. This was definitely a first for him.

"From who?" He leaned forwards from the couch to see Bobby searching the closet. The two had gone for a walk early and his leg was now letting him know it didn't approve. Finally after many swear words and random objects spilling out into the hall, Bobby came back with a box wrapped with brown paper. It was addressed to him but to Bobby's house. Dean eyes widened as he instantly recognised the hand writing.

Tentatively, he tore open the package. Inside were many different things. He picked up the letter that lay on the top. As he unfolded the paper, a silver ring fell unto his lap.

_Hey bro,_

_I hope you didn't think I'd miss Christmas AND your birthday. You know one of us has to keep track of these things. College is great! I love my classes and I love the people here. I think you'd like it too if you gave it a shot. I'd try calling but I know it's hard to get you when you're not out kicking ass and saving the day._

_I know it's not much but I also know how much you hate "chick-flick" moments. So to make it short and sweet, the ring is pure silver and blessed. There's also a small devil's trap carved on the inside. I hope it fits. Well, drop by to see me next time you're __anywhere__ near Palo Alto._

_Sam_

_P.s. __The girls here are hot._

Dean had to read it three times over. After that, his hands still held the paper out of instinct as his eyes stared blankly at the words. He hadn't spoken to his brother for nearly a year. He had called a few times but it was always awkward when their father was around.

"What he give you?" Dean had momentarily forgotten that Bobby was sitting next to him. Of course Bobby had known who it was from. It was the only reason he had held onto it for so long. Dean held out the silver ring for the old hunter to see. It easily fitted onto the middle finger of his right hand. He then turned his attention back to the other contents of the box.

There were several tapes, burnt CD's, chocolate bars, random tools, a container of salt, cookies, and various other odds and ends. This was the best present anyone had ever given him. But that wasn't what brought a smile to his face. It was the simple message that Sam didn't hate him. The package itself could have contained encyclopaedias for all he cared. The message remained the same. The second he could stand for more than 5 minutes, he was headed to Palo Alto to visit a certain brother of his.


	2. Chapter 2 Reunion

_Author's note:_

_Since posting the first chapter (which originally was the entire story) I have been motivate to make it a little more complete by continuing my thought process. It won't be a long story, maybe 5 or 6 chapters at the most._

_Please read and review. Let me know what you guys think!_

_Kaze-chan_

**Chapter 2**

Dean casually leaned against the Impala, the sun setting in the west, projecting many different colours across the sky. His brother had been right about the girls though, they were something to look at. He cautiously shifted his weight, being careful to keep it off his left leg. Though the stitches had been removed, his leg was still sore and easily exerted; the drive here was clear proof of that.

He finally caught sight of his brother, not a difficult task considering Sam Winchester's height. His grin turned into a smile at the sight of the tall blond holding his brother's hand. Sam looked happy, normal even surrounded by friends and carrying books, attending class. This was the life Sam had always wanted, the life Dean and his father could never offer.

Dean whistled something he knew Sam would recognise; his younger brothers head immediately snapped up at the sound. It was almost comical the way his brother pivoted around, trying to locate the all too familiar source. Even though, he and his brother weren't in contact, it didn't mean that Dean didn't know where Sam might be. Finally, his eyes found what he was searching, his face cheering up as he caught sight of his older brother. He watched bemused as Sam strode across the lawn to him, leaving his friends on the foot path; their; their faces twisted in a confused expression.

"Thanks for the birthday present." Dean called out, quickly embracing his brother.

Sam was still surprised at seeing his brother here in Palo Alto, so surprise in fact that he thought for a second of shapeshifters and something similar. "No problem. I was hopping you'd get it." The two stared at each other in stunned silence. It had been almost a year since he last spoke to his brother. He had so much to tell him but know his brain couldn't string anything together.

Sam's friends stepped up beside the brothers, curiosity plain on each of their faces. "Umm, guys this is my brother, Dean." Sam clarified, looking nervously from Dean to his friends. They all nodded and said hello, each doing their best to contain their obvious questions. They new Sam had an older brother but he never spoke about his family. They fell into an awkward silence; Dean grinning at the situation watching his brother shuffle his feet nervously. Suddenly his big brother instincts were back; Sam felt uncomfortable with his audience it seemed.

"So," Dean cleared his throat, "what'd you say you and I get a coffee or something." Sam face instantly lit up, grateful for the escape. He had so much he wanted to ask his brother, things he knew he couldn't with his friends around.

Sam nodded before turning towards the tall blond. "You guys go ahead, I'll catch up with you later."

"Okay, but don't be late." Jessica's voice was just as pretty as she was. "It was nice to finally meet you Dean." She smiled in his direction before heading off with their others friends towards their cars.

"So what's tonight?" Dean asked, his eyebrows arching along with his patented grin. Sam chuckled. God he missed his brother, even that stupid grin of his.

Sam shrugged, readjusting his school bag. "Just some party at me and Jess's place." His own smile widening to match his brother's.

***

It didn't take long for Sam to notice there was something wrong with Dean. He seemed tired and much thinned than the last time he had seen him. Of course Dean had claimed he was fine when Sam asked him about it and so he decided to let it go. They talked about Dean's various adventures, careful to avoid talking about their father. They drove around before making their way to the awaiting party.

The festivities were well underway by the time the Impala pulled up. Jessica happily greeted them at the door, as if she had been watching for them. She quickly got them both a beer which Dean politely turned down. Sam frowned in worry, knowing now without a doubt something was wrong. The Dean Winchester he knew would never turn down a free beer. But he knew better than confronting his brother about it here.

As the evening wore on, it became more apparent to Sam what the problem might be. His trained eye easily noticed how Dean leaned heavily on his right leg, avoiding any unnecessary weight on his left. He also saw how tired his brother seemed. Dean always looked older when he was tired, the dark circles under his eyes very prominent making giving the appearance of a paler skin colour.

"Hey man," Sam squeezed through a group of people to make it to his brother, "want to go for a walk or something?" Sam knew it was a long shot, knowing fully well that his brother wasn't one for walking but Dean got the message.

Dean smiled back, as if contemplating his answer. "Dude, only sissy's go for walks." He fished out his keys from his jean pocket, tossing them over to his brother. "Guys go for a drive around town." Dean limped his way out the door, calling goodbyes to the various girls he had just met while Sam made his way to Jessica.

"Is everything okay?" She asked worried. One of the first things Sam noticed about her was how sensitive she was about everyone else. In fact that's how they met. They were acquaintances through friends and once she found out that he would be spending Thanksgiving break alone, she insisted he spent it with her family. "Is your brother alright?" Here eyes were full of worry as she peered around him at the door Dean had just left from. _Yup, nothing escaped her notice._

Sam couldn't help but smile. "He'll be fine, don't worry. We'll be back later, alright?" He kissed her cheek and went to meet Dean outside, before sliding into the driver's seat. He could count on one hand how many times he had ever driven his brother's car. His excitement was short lived, however, when he glanced over at his brother. If he didn't know better, he could have sworn he had seen a flicker of pain cross his brother's features.

Dean did his best to ignore the searing pain from his leg. He knew his leg wasn't completely healed but despite Bobby's better judgement which the older man had felt the need to voice very loudly, Dean was too eager to see his brother. He frowned at the thought of having to tell Sam, who no doubt already suspected something.

Dean directed them to the motel where he had already booked a room earlier that day. He refused any of Sam's offers to help as he limped up the curb to unlock the front door. He happily sunk into the uncomfortable mattress shoving a pillow under his knee to support his leg. "Jesus Christ" he swore as the movement shot pain up his leg.

"What's up with you?" Sam finally asked, his curiosity reaching its limits. Dean let out a long breath before looking over at his brother.

He eyed him for a second before looking away. "Hunt went bad, a Black dog took a chunk out of my leg." Dean simply explained, leaving out the gory details. The two fell into silence, though it wasn't uncomfortable. Sam stared at his brother a second longer before letting his gaze wander around the room. The plain decoration of the motel room brought back memories of his childhood.

When Sam finally looked back at his brother, he was shocked to find him asleep. The even sound of Dean's breathing told him his brother was truly asleep, something he knew his brother never got enough of. Sam quickly called Jessica, telling her that he would spend the night with Dean at the motel, claiming they had a lot of things to catch up on.

Slowly, he made his way to Dean's bedside, tentatively untying his shoelaces before removing his brother's boots. He was extra careful not to jar his brother's injured leg. Dean, however, didn't even stir. It was almost unnatural for his brother to be so still.

He watched the slow rise and fall of his brother breathing for a little longer before settling in for the night, draping the comforter from his bed over his brother. They were woken early the next morning by a persistent ringtone.

As Sam's eyes adjusted to the light, he heard Dean shuffling around looking for his cell phone. "yeah," Dean tired voice filtered through the small room, still groggy with sleep. "oh hey Dad, yeah, I've been busy." He sat on the edge of his bed, casting a sideways glance towards his brother, listening intently to his father instructions. "Sure, I'll meet you there in two days."


	3. Chapter 3 Another hunt

_Author's note:__ The action is picking up!_

_Thank you to everyone who leaves me comments. I like hearing what you guys thought of it. I'm staring to feel sorry for Dean. _

_Kaze-chan_

**Chapter 3**

Dean drove in silence to where his father said he'd meet him. The peaceful night drive, however, did nothing to ease the knot in his stomach. Why did it always seem like he and Sam always parted ways angry?

It was no surprise, however, that Sam was frustrated with him. His younger brother had wanted him to skip the hunt. If it wasn't for their father orders, Dean might have listened. But he had already spent a month hiding from the man, he wouldn't be able to keep it up for much longer without raising suspicion. He rubbed his sore leg trying to ease the pain that always seemed to come back after long drives.

He let out a deep breath, letting his finger drum out the rhythm of the song on the steering wheel. He would call Sam later when the job was done, atleast to let know how it went. He knew Sam wasn't angry at him, he was just worried. That's what Sam did, that's why his brow was forever creased in a scowl.

When he finally pulled up the deserted driveway off the deserted road, he quickly spotted his father leaning against his truck, obviously annoyed by his son's tardiness; even if it was only 20 minutes. He steeled his face and squared his shoulders; this was going to take more work than any other hunt.

"You're late." _Typical John Winchester_ Dean thought as he stepped out of the Impala, carefully avoiding his left leg. Though John never missed any details in anything he did, Dean knew he wouldn't notice this for the simple fact that he knew his father wouldn't notice _him_. Dean had discovered many years ago that John Winchester had a major blind spot for his eldest son. Dean could show up with two black eyes and John wouldn't spare him a glance unless it changed his plans. Sam, however, had not been lucky enough to profit from the same treatment; the main reason why his brother was now at Palo Alto.

He winced as his foot connected with a rock. Dean quickly recovered and thankfully, John had his back to him, already leading the way to the weapons cash. "Sorry, missed the turn off, had to detour." Dean easily lied; his father didn't even turn to face him. _This is going to be great_, he thought sarcastically as his father handed him a silver dagger.

Within 15 minutes, Dean was briefed on the hunt and the two where currently making their way through the abandoned house, combing each room for the shapeshifter. The entire house was eerily silent, each corner shrouded in darkness. They made it to the second story before they heard the sound of the creaking floor boards just beyond a closed door.

As if by a sixth sense, the Winchester men fell into flank formation around the closed door, years of practice making the movement subconscious. They noticed a second too late it was all a trap. Before Dean could make another move, the floor boards creaked beneath his feet, the floor disappearing under his weight.

He landed in a sickening thud in the living room below. Instantly, pain flared up his left side making him gasp in pain. He curled onto his side, clutching his leg, trying to remain conscious. The last thing he wanted right now was a lecture from his father about passing out on a hunt. He fought against the nausea and the black dots that forced their way into his vision.

"DEAN!!" His father's worried cries filtered down through the floor. From the noise and the amount of movement above, Dean figured his father was busy with the shapeshifter. "DEAN!!!" The floor boards creaked and dust filtered down as Dean could only imagine a fight taking place upstairs.

He propped himself on his elbows, looking up at the hole he had just made. "I'm alright." He called up. The scuffling above continued but since his father wasn't yelling at him anymore, he figured he had been heard. He already knew his left leg was broken before he saw it sprawled out at an odd angle. "At least it wasn't the other one." Dean mumbled to himself.

"I can fixe that." Dean's head snapped up in the direction of the voice. Out of the basement door a woman stepped forward, her face twisted in a smile. She spared a glance at the hole in the ceiling, listening to the action above before fixing her eyes back on the man sprawled on the floor in front of her.

Dean mentally calmed himself as he watched her pace around him, clearly in no hurry. When she smiled, Dean quickly notice she wasn't human at all; another shapeshifter. Never dropping her gaze, he searched his pocket for his silver blade. Uninterested, she continued circling her prey, enjoying the fear she could see in his eyes.

Her smile widened. "What's wrong hunter. Come on a hunt unprepared did you?" She closed the distance between them, making her circle smaller. His heart beat increase when couldn't find the silver blade; it must have fallen somewhere.

"You son of a bitch." Dean's mind was racing trying to come up with something, anything. There was no way he was going to sit here helpless and let this thing kill him. Slowly, he managed to pull himself up with the help of a nearby chair. In the time it took him to achieve this, the shift never stepped closer. She seemed amused at watching him; for now. The pain was excruciating but he pressed it to the back of his mind. "Is this your idea of a fair fight?" His voice didn't come out nearly as steady and confident as he had hoped. Dean was stalling for time. He knew he was no match and worst yet, the shifter knew it to. The best he could do right now was to keep it talking in hopes that his father could finish his fight soon.

The shifter stopped her slow circling, dropping her head to one side. "What do you mean? There are two of you after all." She took a step forward, causing him to step back. He muffled a groan as the small step caused him pain. She watched in amusement, her sinister smile twisting her features as she resumed her slow pace.

_Shit_. He was in trouble with no options and no weapon. He scanned his surroundings looking for anything that would help. The second his gaze left hers, she sprang towards him, reaching him faster than any human could.

The air escaped his lungs in a whoosh as she pinned him to the wall behind, her abnormally strong grip holding him suspended by the collar if his shirt. He was momentarily dazed, a small moment of relief before he felt her cold hands close around his throat. "End of the line, hunter." She snarled, her smile revealing her perfect teeth.

He kicked with his good leg the best he could, as his hands frantically worked to free his throat. Each movement brought a new wave of pain as it jarred his injured leg. Despite that, he was losing the energy and the oxygen.

Just before his vision blurred, he saw her face twist in pain, her smile vanishing. He followed her gaze to her chest, where the tip of his silver blade was visible, blood beginning to stain her shirt.

When she released her grip, Dean expected to come crashing to the floor once again. Instead strong arms held him upright. It took him a second to realise someone was talking to him. He fought back the wave of dizziness, trying to keep his grip on reality.

"Dean! Hey, are you alright? Come on Dean. Look at me." He forced his eyes to focus and his brain to concentrate on the foreign voice.

He finally found the strength to bring his head up. "Sam?" His younger brother smiled at him, relief plain on his face. He helped Dean into a nearby chair, apologizing every time Dean winced in pain. While Sam examined the break in his leg, it finally occurred to Dean that his younger brother hadn't been with them when they came in. "What are you doing here?"

Sam glanced up at his brother's face before quickly looking away guiltily. "I ummm…" He continued his careful examination. "I was worried you might do something stupid." He finally admitted with a small smile, still averting his gaze.

"Like going on a hunt with a hurt leg?" Dean grinned despite the pain.

"Something like that." Sam chuckled before going around the room in search of something to use as a splint. He knew he didn't have to tell Dean the leg was broken. He also knew this was going to hurt.

"Hold still." Dean cried out in pain, despite himself, as Sam reset the bone. The break was clean and would heal in no time, but a hospital visit was still needed. Sam had just managed a make shift splint, emitting multiple curses from his brother.

"What are you waiting around for?" Sam spun around at the sound of his father's stern voice in surprise. He knew his father was here but it still came as a shock. "Well?" Sam visibly shrunk under his father's intense glare.

Dean straightened in his chair, emitting another string of curses. "I broke my leg, Sam's just reset it." The silence between the men was suffocating. John Winchester's gaze traveled the room, stopping on the body of the shapeshifter. For a second Dean thought he saw anger flash across his father's face, but it quickly disappeared.

"Fine." He growled, turning towards Sam. "You take care of the on upstairs. I've got this one." Sam glanced over at Dean in a moment of hesitation, unsure of what he should do. When his father didn't seem like he was going to say anything else, Sam headed towards the stair case. He figured at this point he was just going to finish the job so he could get Dean to a hospital as fast as possible.

Dean kept his gaze on his father; something was wrong. His father should have been furious with Sam, instead he just didn't say anything. They listened in silence to Sam's footsteps until he was in the bedroom where John and the shapeshifter had fought. It was then that Dean noticed the sinister smile spreading across his father's features; the same smile the other shapeshifter had shown him only moments before.

"You're going to pay for that." He snarled his face twisting inhumanly as he stepped forward.


	4. Chapter 4 Another shifter

_Author's note:__ Thank you for all the alerts, favourites and reviews! I never imagined my story would be so well received. _

_Here's another chapter specifically for you, the readers. The best way I can think of thanking you all is by giving you more._

_Let me know what you all think._

_Kaze-Chan_

**Chapter 4**

_Son of a bitch_. Sam cursed to himself the entire way up the stairs. He was angry with his father, but more so at himself. When Sam had left to go to college, he had a thousand different things to tell his father; none of them decent for the ears of children. But now he had just stood there as his father bossed him around like he was trash, acting like nothing had ever happened.

He easily side stepped the hole Dean had no doubt fallen through. His mind was still racing with all the swear words he could possibly come up with. He scanned the room, confused when he didn't see the shapshifter's body. His hunter's instincts kicked in; his hearing focusing and his eyes adjusting themselves to every detail. It wasn't like his father to leave a job unfinished.

That's when he noticed the closet door closed, with a chair propped up to keep it shut. Hesitantly, he made his way over, bracing himself as he moved the chair, unsure what could be behind it. His heart was in his throat and his stomach was in knots as he turned the doorknob, his anxiety rising.

But he wasn't prepared for what tumbled out.

****

"You are going to pay for what you did to her hunter." Shapeshifter John stepped closer to Dean, the anger he had seen earlier returning.

_Shit._ Dean swore for the hundredth time that day. It was bad enough he had been caught off guard by a shifter once today, but to make the same mistake twice was stupid. His heart pounded in his chest as the second shifter glared at him in anger. Dean didn't know what was more frightening; that fact that he had no idea if his father was alright or the fact that a perfect likeness of the man was standing in front of him now, eyeing him in utter disgust and hatred.

The last thing he wanted to do was stay in the chair, knowing he was at a clear disadvantage, but his body refused to move. Any small movement brought him new levels of pain that left him weak and nauseous; it was all he had to stay focused. Instead, he mustered his remaining strength to keep his voice even. "You better not have touched my dad, you sonuvabitch, or I swear to God…"

"Or what?" Shifter John stepped closer, leaving Dean trapped in the chair where he sat. He smiled menacingly as he leaned forward, gripping the arms of the chair, bringing his eyes level with the young hunter. "You'll kill me?" It asked sarcastically, an eyebrow arching in amusement.

The shifters held his gaze, its eyes gloating in confidence. Dean didn't have to be told he was in serious trouble, but like always, he couldn't help but worry about his brother. His father hadn't known about the second shifter; knowing that, he couldn't help but imagine more of them just hiding and waiting. Unconsciously, Dean gazed up at the ceiling, willing his brother to hear his thoughts. The shifter noticed Dean's distracted gaze, his anger flaring in annoyance. His hand quickly clamped down around Dean's injured leg, causing him to cry out in pain as black dots swarmed his vision, but effectively bringing Dean's attention back to Shifter John. In all his life, Dean had never felt pain like this; compared to this, his run in with the black dog had only been a scratch. He was barely holding on and his breathing was shallow and haggard.

Still smiling, Shifter John gave one last squeeze, instantly rewarded by the sickening sound of bones snapping; a second break just higher than the first one. Dean's cry however, was short lived as the instant pain sent him over the edge into darkness.

****

Sam stood momentarily rooted to the floor, his mouth hanging open as sudden dread coursed through his veins. "Dad?"

The second Sam had turned the door knob, an unconscious John Winchester had tumbled out of the closet. Blood covered half of his face, but a quick examination revealed a shallow cut. "Dad! Come on wake up! Dean broke his….." Sam didn't finished his sentence, suddenly finding his mouth dry and a sizable lump in his throat as realization hit him. "Oh God, DEAN!"

Sam jumped to his feet, ready to barrel down the stairs, but was quickly knocked back to the floor. An awake and very angry John Winchester stared down at him, his fists clenching and unclenching at his side. "You sick son of a bitch. How dare you use my son against me!" In most cases John Winchester was just angry, but this was a side of his father Sam had never seen before; he was beyond angry.

Of all the things he had ever hunted, Sam was more terrified of his own father at that moment. It took him a few seconds to comprehend the situation. "No dad, it's really me!" Sam explained, trying to keep his voice even as John strode forward. "Dean, his leg is broken and the Shifter's with him, we thought it was you."

John listened with little interest. His mind was having a hard time working around the audacity of the shifter; choosing to shift into his youngest son. "I'm going to rip you apart." His father's voice was low and dangerous. In a quick movement, he pulled his spare silver knife from his boot.

He had to think of something and fast. Sam's heart nearly stopped, as the sound of Dean's painful scream filtered up from the living room. John similarly tensed at the sound of his oldest. The eerie silence that followed did nothing to clam either men, their sense of urgency rising.

Sam's face paled. "Dad, please! It's me, Sam." Any effort fell on deaf ears so he prepared himself for hand to hand combat. Short term, Sam felt confident that he could out manoeuvre his father; he had the strength, speed and Dean had been a very good teacher. But long term, his father would have the strategic advantage; the years of experience working in his favour.

As John took a first lung, Sam easily used his father's momentum against him. John, however, was ready for that, easily placing a hard kick to his exposed side. Sam stumbled back cursing, remembering all the times Dean had cautioned him about such a move. While Sam staggered backwards, John quickly took advantage aiming the silver knife towards the heart.

Sam saw it in time to dodge the blade, the point only grazing his skin through his clothes. He managed to grab hold of the older man's wrist and the two struggled for control of the knife. John quickly gained the upper hand and drove the blade partially into Sam's side.

Everything zoned out for a second for Sam, as first numbness spread through him, followed by pain. He managed to pull himself away from his father, bring the blade with him. "Jesus…..christ." Sam breathed through clenched teeth, his hand finding the hilt. Slowly he pulled it free, dropping it to the floor and adding pressure to the wound. "Shit…"

John's eyes furrowed in confusion; the silver blade should have caused more damaged than that, unless this truly was his son. "Sam?" John's eyes scrutinized him, searching for any familiarity. When the silver blade failed to cause any of the usual injuries, John's eyes widened with worry as he closed the gap between the two, reaching out to steady his youngest son. "What are you doing here?"

Sam grimaced as he took a step towards the door. "Dean…. I have to help Dean." His concern for his brother fuelled his adrenaline, allowing him to move towards the stairs, towards his brother.

John watched in stunned silence, the silver blade coated in blood lying just a foot away. For the first time in his life, he really didn't know what to do. After replacing the blade in his boot, he slung his son's arm around his shoulders, grateful that Sam had accepted his help. Of course John knew it didn't really mean anything, Sam would surely have a few choice words for him once he knew his brother was safe. They staggered down the stairs, finally coordinating on a same goal; getting to Dean and fast.

Their hearts lumped into their throats as an empty living room greeted them. "No…" Sam stepped forward, the chair where he had left his elder brother just moments before now empty. "NO!!!!!"


	5. Chapter 5 Man down

_Author's note:__ Sorry for the long wait everyone, I've been bombarded with work lately. I hope this makes up for it though. _

_Thank you everyone for all the encouraging words, alerts and favourites. I have already started working on Chapter 6, so stay tuned. _

_Kaze-Chan _

**Chapter 5 **

The first thing Dean was aware of was the pain. The second was the excruciating pain. His brain couldn't wrap itself around a third thing before a forceful blow to the side of his head sent him back over the edge into darkness.

****

"DEAN!!!" Sam's voice shook in panic as he frantically scanned the room for any sign of his brother. Stumbling forward, he gripped the side of the now empty chair for support. He closed his eyes in concentration, his head feeling light and dizzy. He added more pressure to the knife wound while stifling a groan, the blood now covering his hand and staining his shirt.

John stood in place, his mind raging in colours but unable to form any words. He was angry with himself, but inexplicably, also at his sons. He watched his youngest for a moment more, before he too scanned the room. He quickly noticed the front door was opened, the cold air blowing dead lives inside the hall. He distinctly remembered closing it behind them when he and Dean came in. Knowing there was a strong possibility Sam had left it open, he slowly made his was onto the front porch, his trained eye quickly scanning the surrounding; he had done enough rookie mistakes today to last him the year. If there was even the slight possibility this could lead to Dean, he was going to check it out.

A few feet from the front steps, leading off the path, John noticed a trail through the underbrush; as if someone had been dragged. "Sam!" John called over his shoulder, keeping his gaze up ahead. Despite his injury, Sam was at his side in seconds; staring in the same direction.

Without so much as a sound, the two remaining Winchester's left the path to follow the trail; their mutual worry for Dean urging them forward and forcing a silent alliance. John's brow arched in annoyance as Sam stumbled on a tree root behind him. A simple hunt had gone wrong because _he_ hadn't notice his eldest was hurt, and now he was letting his injured youngest tag along. But Dean should have known better than to come injured.

His temple pulsed in frustration; he had taught his boys to be better hunters than this. He also figured, however, that Dean had only come so as not to raise his father's suspicions and bring unwanted attention to his injury. He had always drilled them to suck it up when they were hurt; the boys were just doing what they had been taught. He let out a low growl, he definitely didn't deserve to be called a father, he concluded bitterly.

Sam leaned against a tree and took in a deep breath. As the walk got longer he noticed he was stumbling more; he was also slightly concerned by the continuous flow of blood. However, he wouldn't have accepted staying behind and finding Dean was at the top of his priority list. His heart lurched in his chest as he remembered Dean's painful cry; he knew his brother wasn't invincible but pain was something his older sibling had always hid from him. To have it out in the open just didn't seem normal.

He was grateful for the silence, knowing his father would probably blame him. Truth be told, this was as much his fault, he felt, since he had let his brother come on this stupid hunt in the first place. He also didn't fail to notice how much noise he was making as he stumbled behind his father; no doubt eliminating their element of surprise. He was watching his footing when he bumped into his father.

John had come to a small clearing, but that wasn't what made him freeze mid-stride. Opposite them at the other end of the clearing, shrouded in darkness, lay a crumple figure. He instantly recognised the jacket as Dean's. But what frightened him the most was that from this distance, he wasn't moving. John could count on one hand the amount of times he had ever seen his eldest this still; each one of them near the top of his most terrifying moments.

Sam also saw his brother, his body instantly launching him towards him. But his father held him in place, his strong arm stretched out as a barrier. "….Dean.." John didn't have to turn to face his youngest to know just how he felt.

John knew this was a trap and that Dean was the obvious bait; that's why the trail had been so easy to follow. He scanned the surrounding darkness, hearing only the sound of Sam's haggard breathing beside him. From the corner of his eye, however, he saw the slight movement on his left. He had just enough time to push Sam out of the way before the shifter tackled him to the ground, both Johns landing in a heap in the clearing.

The knock sent Sam to the cold ground as well, the force knocking the wind out of him. For a moment, all he could see was the bight moon above as his mind felt numb. Finally it seemed the pain caught up with him, instinctively making him curl up on himself. As he forced his mind to focus, something that took a lot more effort with each passing minute; he vaguely made out the sound of scuffling somewhere to his left. Unable to coordinate any movements, he lay clutching his bleeding side, working to even his breathing; the distinct sound of well aimed blows hitting their mark echoing through the forest.

The shapeshifter's strength was overwhelming but John's anger was greater. He landed hit after hit but the shifter kept bouncing back. Every once in a while, he caught sight of his eldest son strewn across the cold ground, never moving. New anger surged through him. This shifter wasn't living any older than tonight, he would make sure of that.

Sam pushed himself to his unsteady feet, only to stumble back down. He decided to stay kneeling, unsure if he could handle another fall. He watched helplessly as his father and Shifter John exchanged blows; his tired mind transfixed in the fight. It wasn't until minutes later that he realized he had no idea which one was his father. The vague idea of stabbing both of them just to make sure came to mind, but now wasn't the time.

"Sam, do something god damnit." His father barked at him in between punches. While he stared trying to find a distinction between both John's, something caught his eye; a reflection. He strained his eyes trying to find the source. Every once in while he would catch a glimpse of it but never longer than for a second.

Finally, his eyes widened in recognition, before narrowing on his goal. Slowly and laboriously, he made it to his feet, never once losing track of the object. He inched forward, timing a perfect lung towards one of the John Winchester's, pinning him to the ground. "Now dad!" Sam yelled hoping he could hold the shifter long enough. John didn't need to be told twice; reaching down, he pulled the silver blade out from his boot.

Shifter John smiled, blood covering his once white teeth, as he leaned closer to Sam's ear. "You're brother's already dead." He whispered before aiming a kick at Sam's bleeding side. With a cry of pain, Sam tumbled sideways; unconscious before hitting the cold ground.

The shifter was distracted for only a second, but that was more than John needed. The blade reflected in the moonlight before he drove it through the shapeshifter's heart. He knew his sons needed him but he wasn't moving until he was 100% sure it was dead.

Sam stirred, and instantly regretted it as pain sent him gasping for air. "Easy Sam." John knelt down and for the first time examined the knife wound he himself had inflicted. The wound itself was not very large but there was no telling what internal injuries may have been caused. But more pressing than that, was the severe blood loss. "…shit." When John added more pressure, Sam was sent into another coughing fit, this time bringing up blood.

"……dea…n…" Sam rolled to his side to be able to see his brother's form. "….help……de….dean." He didn't know if it was his injuries or the shifter's words that had him feeling numb.

John hated leaving Sam but if he knew one thing for certain about his boys, it was that neither would rest until he knew the other was safe. Jumping to his feet, his crossed the clearing towards his eldest son. His eyes continuously scanned the surrounding woods, his mind unable to relax just yet.

But something wasn't right, something he had only just noticed now at a closer distance. His heart jumped to his throat, preventing him from breathing and leaving a dark hole in his chest.

This wasn't Dean. It was Dean's jacket without a doubt, but this wasn't Dean. Had he and Sam not been in such a panic, they surely would have noticed the alarming absence of the other shapeshifter's body from the living room. He stared dumbfounded at the other shifter's body laying here in the forest, wrapped in Dean's jacket mocking him even in death.

"DEAN!!!" His voice rang through the empty darkness before falling into an unsettling silence. He sank to his knees, unable to keep his weight up. "….Dean…"

***

When Dean's mind finally managed to separate his imagination from reality, he concluded he preferred his imagination. The pain, though still excruciating, had taken a back seat to the bone chilling cold that currently coursed through his body. He tried for several minutes to open his eyes before realizing they were already opened, and the problem was that he was shrouded in darkness. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness but he seemed to be unable to focus properly. He easily concluded the slight throbbing at his right temple was to blame for that.

Slowly and with a groan, he brought his hand to his head, feeling the dry blood. He also noticed his jacket was missing. "Th..at's just ….great." He grounded out through clenched teeth, keeping the nausea each movement caused at bay. His fingers slowly stretched out, tracing the cold ground around him; it felt cold and damp, not unlike a basement. Lacking the energy to move, he stayed stretched out on his back, letting the slight shivers course through them. "Stu…pid sh…shifter."


	6. Chapter 6 Somewhere out there

_Author's note:__ Once again, thank you to every one who took the time to read and to review my story. Only a few more chapters left. I wish I could give Dean a hug right about now._

_Let me know what you think!_

_Kaze-Chan_

**Chapter 6**

John pivoted in circles, his throat sore from yelling his son's name. Every second of silence that passed only added to his state of panic. His fist shook at his side as the feeling of helplessness grew within him. Sam's coughing brought him back to reality. Though he wanted to find Dean now, he knew Sam needed him first. Quickly he made his way back to his youngest side, dragging him to his feet and more or less carrying him to his truck. After he loaded a semiconscious Sam into the passenger seat he spared a last glance towards the dark forest. His heart sank at the though of Dean lying hurt and alone. He was coming back, he told himself; he just hoped Dean could hold on until then.

*****

Bobby groaned in his sleep as the persistent sound of a ringing phone chorused through the darkness. Without looking at the caller ID, he flipped the cell phone opened. "This better be good." He barked through the line.

"Bobby, it's John." The man sounded beyond tired, the kind brought on by stress and worry. "Sam's hurt and Dean's missing." Bobby was awake in seconds. "I need your help." Bobby got the directions and headed out the door to meet them, all the while cursing the Winchester stupidity gene. If he had thought for one second that Dean would have taken a hunt this soon, he wouldn't have let the kid leave. The simple fact that John Winchester, despite his pigheaded stubbornness, called to asked for help, instantly sent him into a panicked hurry. There was no telling what kind of trouble those boys could get into.

*****

John watched the slow rise and fall of Sam's breathing; his skin nearly as pale as the white hospital sheets. By the time he managed to drag Sam back to the truck, he was suffering from severe blood loss. He leaned his head into his hands, unable to shake to pit in his stomach. With no clue as to Dean's whereabouts, he had no choice but to get Sam to a hospital and fast. As he sat here in silence, he wanted nothing else than to head back out in search of his oldest. He decided he would wait for Bobby.

He nearly jumped out of his chair when a strong hand fell on his shoulder. Bobby looked tired but relieved, making him look years older than he really was. John squinted at the bright light filtering in through the window; he must have fallen asleep at Sam's bedside. Bobby stepped closer to Sam, taking in all the beeping machines around the young man. "He lost a lot of blood, but the doctors say he should be fine." John sat up in his chair, his voice gruff.

Bobby stood in silence, letting his mind time to filter through everything he wanted to say. "What happened? Where's Dean?" John's shoulders sunk at the simple questions, the words weighing heavy on him. After a deep breath, John quickly explained the hunt, not sparing any of the details or the blame. Bobby listened in silence, his expression never changing. Once John had finished the two listened to the constant beeping in the background.

"You stupid asshole." Bobby's quiet voice easily filtered through the silence before he turned and headed back towards the hall. John got to his feet to follow, knowing where the other hunter was heading. "No," Bobby stared down the man in front of him, lifting his arm and pointing to the recently empty chair. "you're staying here and keeping an eye on Sam. I'm going to get Dean." John was never one to take orders but he had quickly learned that when Bobby Singer meant business, you were best to do as he said.

*****

Curse after curse filter through Bobby's car as he drove to the abandoned house, most of them directed towards the stupidity that is John Winchester. As he pulled into the long driveway, the afternoon sun did nothing to calm his nerves. He parked next to Dean's Impala; the black car having been left behind, abandoned, much like it's owner.

He knew John had been in a tight situation but he could not understand ever leaving one of his sons behind, and Bobby did consider Sam and Dean like his children. Though he rarely did hunting jobs anymore, he was no amateur. It took him only a few minutes to cover the perimeter of the house, looking for any other clues that John and Sam may have overlooked in their hurry. After finding nothing of interest outside, he tentatively made his way inside; gun at the ready, counting every step and scanning every corner. If a shapeshifter had gotten the drop on all three Winchester's, it no doubt had a few tricks up its sleeve.

Systematically, he searches every floor and every room; easily avoiding the hole in the floor where Dean had probably fallen through. The only level left was the basement. Slowly, he made his way down the narrow staircase flash light in hand and a gun armed with silver bullets in the other. Part of him wanted to find Dean and know he was fine, but the more rational part of him kept reminding him to be prepare for reality; that this may not be a fairytale ending. Either way, he wasn't leaving until he knew which part of himself was right.

****

Dean drifted in and out of consciousness; each time, to his dismay, lasting just a little longer and leaving him that much more tired. He didn't dare turn onto his stomach, though he knew it certainly would make things easier. He tried taking in a deep breath, but his throat wouldn't cooperate. He could only imagine the array of coloured bruising winding around his neck; no doubt the perfect shape of the shapeshifter's hands. Gripping the concrete floor with his freezing fingers, he used his arms to pull himself towards what he hoped was a wall. Every inch instantly rewarded him with the disturbing sound of bone grinding against bone, followed by the overwhelming pain associated. The splint Sam had made for him was still attached, keeping the first break steady, but it currently did nothing to help the second.

He lay on his back, gasping for breath as he just managed to stay conscious this time; just managing to keep the spreading black dots at bay. Another shiver coursed through him, sending new jolts of pain up his body. He groaned in pain, clenching his teeth shut to prevent a cry. He had to force himself not to panic when he realised he couldn't feel anything below his left knee. Though he was sure the sun must have risen by now, the small space remained pitch dark.

He sighed in relief as he felt a wall. "Jesus C..Christ." Dean groaned as he laboriously pulled himself up to a sitting position. His stomach roiled as he felt the bone shift within his leg. In an automatic reaction, his body heaved the contents of his already nearly empty stomach onto the floor beside him. After minutes of dry heaves, Dean coiled down on his side, his arms clutching his middle before gripping his thigh. If he had any strength left, it had just been cut by half.

***

The basement was dark and damp but more importantly, it was empty. There were no signs of Dean or any indication that anyone had been down here in years; layers of dust covered every surface. There had been a few foot prints in the dust at the top of the stairs, probably the second shifter lying in wait, but nothing beyond that.

He silently cursed as he spun in a circle, letting the light fall on every inch of the cement walls. By the third time he circled around, he noticed the space he was currently in was much smaller than the floor plan of the house above. He was up the stairs in seconds and heading back outside.

"DEAN!!!" he yelled as he started a second examination of the outside of the house, this time specifically looking for a hiding door. In the old days, houses weren't built on foundations due to the overwhelming cost. Instead, small cellars were dug underneath the structure with only a small door for an entrance. He searched every inch around the house but found nothing. "DEAN!!!" He yelled out into the empty forest. He had promised himself he would stay calm but that was easier said than done.

With no other option, he headed down the trail; quickening his pace as the forest closed around him. He had searched every inch of that house; from the basement to the pantry closet to the attic. His stopped mid stride as something occurred to him. The pantry closet in the kitchen had a small rug. He hadn't thought anything of it at the time but who would put a rug in a pantry unless they had something to hide.

His feet were carrying him back towards the house before he finished his trail of thought. In some houses, the cellar doors were inside the kitchen, inside what was sometimes now the pantry closet. He pulled the dirty rug out of the small space, lifting a cloud of dust but revealing a small wooden door in the floor boards. "DEAN!!" His voice echo in the small space.

On his way down, he frantically searched the darkness with his flash light; the beam of light instantly falling on the slumped figure. He was down the stairs and by Dean's side in seconds. "Dean, hey come on wake up son?" Bobby spared a glanced at the broken leg, wincing as he could only imagine the amount of pain he must be in. "Dean." Bobby gently gripped Dean's shoulder, his voice anything but calm. Though he didn't have children, Bobby had always considered Dean as a son. Anger coursed through him at the mere thought of leaving him behind like John had done. "Com' on Dean, wake up." He felt for Dean's pulse, finding it weak and erratic. "Dean…"


	7. Chapter 7 Just hang on

_Author's note:__ What would we do without Bobby? That's a question I do not want answered anytime soon. Thank you for all the support; every review encourages me just that much more, to go one word further, just one other paragraph. _

_And don't worry apieceofcake, there was a reason Bobby was so hard on John earlier._

_Thank you again to everyone!_

_Kaze-Chan_

**Chapter 7**

Slowly, Dean stirred at the sound of his name. He could feel a warmth spreading through his arm, a more than welcomed feeling considering all he currently felt was cold numbness. His eyes slowly opened into slits. "Hey son, it's good to see ya." Bobby whispered, shrugging out of his jacket and draping it over Dean. The boy's lips were blue and his skin felt ice cold as slight shivers ran up and down his spine.

Dean tiredly looked up, his vision blurring. "Bobby?" His eyes adjusted to the new light as he swallowed against a new wave of nausea. "…how…did y..you…" He tried to sit up, but Bobby gently eased him back down. Trying to move had been a bad idea, as a new haze settled over his mind. "I threw…up over th..there.." Dean's eyes were wide and glassy, completely unfocused.

Bobby's heart skipped a beat. He had never seen Dean hurt this bad but that wasn't what scared him right now. Normally, Dean would always keep up appearances, it was his unwritten rule; they had grown accustomed to that. So when Dean didn't keep up his façade, it did more than describe the situation. "Sam, he …" Dean swallowed laboriously, "he needs to get back to school…" the simple sentence left him short of breath.

Bobby kept a hand on Dean's shoulder while the other closed around the boy's wrist. Slowly, Dean's eyes drooped closed "Hey, come on Dean. Wake up, stay with me." He couldn't keep the panic out of his voice. Dean didn't move but his hand closed around Bobby's as another shiver wracked through him. The shake jolted his injured leg, causing him the gasp out in pain before nausea assaulted him once again, his empty stomach retching dry heaves.

This was bad; he had to get Dean to a hospital and fast. Once he was finished throwing up, Bobby coxed him into a sitting position, apologising every time Dean hissed and groaned in pain. "I'm sorry dude, but we've gotta get you out of here." While Dean worked to keep control, Bobby managed to get a better look at his injuries. His leg was broken twice and the uneven size of his pupils indicated a concussion. There was still an alarming amount of blood escaping from a gash on the side of his head. After a few minutes Dean's breathing evened out and he nodded for Bobby to continue, offering the older man a ghost of a smile. Gently, Bobby pulled him to his feet, leaning him against the wall for support.

Dean cried out in pain, his fingers digging into Bobby's worn jacket as his head lolled dangerously to the side, his eyes rolling inwards. His breathing came shallow and haggard, and if it wasn't for Bobby holding him up, Dean would have crashed back towards the cement. "Dean, stay with me." Bobby encouraged, his own voice uneven with panic. Draping Dean's arm over his shoulder, he did his best to keep Dean off his leg.

It was hard for Bobby to force Dean forwards, knowing that every step caused him inconceivable amounts of pain. Each haggard breath or hiss of pain tore at Bobby's heart. Though he knew it was for the best, it made him uneasy knowing he was currently the source of Dean's pain. "Pl…eas ….stop." Dean's voice shook, barely above a whisper. The two paused while Dean tried unsuccessfully to catch his breath. He was barely managing to support any of his own weight, leaning heavily on the older hunter. Finally, Bobby forced forwards, trying to convince himself he was doing to right thing; the painful words weighing heavy on the older man.

Bobby chocked back the lump in his throat. "I know kid, it hurts. But I gotta get you out of here." He tried to instil confidence and authority in his voice, but falled miserably. By the time Bobby got Dean upstairs, all remaining colour had drained from his young face. His head bounced from side to side, before Bobby could feel his shivers increase. As the shivers worsened, Dean was launched into another fit of dry coughs and dry heaves.

Bobby practically dragged Dean the rest of the way. He found himself thankful for Dean's recent weight loss due to his previous legs injury; if not for that there would have been no way the older man could have carried him out. He wasn't sure if he should be relieved once he noticed Dean had passed out or if he should be worried. For the first time in his life, he felt he finally understood John Winchester.

With one look at Dean's pale face, he knew had he been in John's shoes hours ago, he would have made the same decision. He would do anything to save either one of these boys, even if it meant leaving the other behind. A lump formed in his throat at the thought of having to drive away to save one son, knowing the other needed his help too.

He quickly loaded Dean into the back seat of the beloved Impala, doing his best possible not to stress the injured leg. Even unconscious, Dean cried and groaned in pain. Bobby's decision was both rational and sentimental; his own car held no personal attachment, no weapons and nothing to trace back to him. The Impala, however, held everything of the Winchester's life. Most hunters had a house, a home base to go back to. The Winchester's only had their car, and in it they carried all of their worldly possessions.

The drive back into town was anything but calming. It wasn't the first time Bobby had driven Dean to the hospital, but all those other times the kid had been conscious; muttering curses or snarky remarks. He had never had time to notice how choking the silence inside the Impala could be. In the back seat, Dean lay silent; no smart ass comments, no hiss of pain as they hit a bump, hardly even a haggard breath. Bobby had a hard time keeping an eye on Dean and the road. "Hang in there Dean, hang in there." Though he figured Dean couldn't hear him by now, he needed to fill the empty silence, anything to keep his mind off the possibilities. Dean wasn't dying, he couldn't.

****

The constant beeping to his left told Sam he was in a hospital long before he had the energy to open his eyes. He new there was something he was missing, but for the moment his mind was currently content in its maze of warmth. If it wasn't for the distinctive hospital smell, he would have been tempted to believe he was back home with Jessica.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, the nagging images at the back of his mind finding their way through the haze. "D…dea.n." It took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust themselves, before falling on his father's face. Panic flared through him at the memory of the shapeshifter and the nights events; the heart monitor increasing it's tempo in consequences.

"Easy Sam, take it easy. It's okay" John felt relief spread through him. He would never truly forgive himself for stabbing his own son but thankfully, Sam would come out of it with just a scar. He wiped his tired face with his hand; the same gesture Dean always did when he was exhausted Sam thought. John hadn't spoken to Sam since his youngest had left for College, walking out on their life and as far as John was concerned, walking out on his family. Hell, he hadn't really expected to break their silent agreement anytime soon. "So, how are you feeling?" He managed to grind out.

Sam took in the man in front of him before letting his eyes scan the room for his brother. If John was here, it surely meant he had found Dean. Finding nothing to indicate his older brother's whereabouts, he turned his tired gazed back towards his father. "Where's Dean?" He hated how weak and coarse his voice sounded, especially in front of his dad.

John took a few seconds before answering, knowing he had to chose his words carefully with Sam. "The shifter still has him," he watched as Sam's eyes widened, "but Bobby's gone to get him. He'll be fine." For a second it seemed like Sam was going to jump out of his hospital bed but instead, he settled himself back down, closing his eyes as fatigue settled back in, the short conversation exhausting his weakened body.

"That's good.." he mumbled, slipping back into sleep. "Bobby will find him, …..he always does." John had to lean closer to hear the last part. Though he knew his sons were close to Bobby, he had never given it much thought; most times he found it easier not to. It pained him a little to know Sam had more faith in the older man than in his own father; something he had never done to prove otherwise.

John watched as his youngest slipped back into unconsciousness. He fidgeted in his seat before finding himself unable to sit still any longer. He paced the length of the hall, pulling out his cell phone twice, both times unable to complete the call to Bobby Singer. He forced himself not to panic. The fact that his friend hadn't called yet could mean many different things, yet his mind kept going back to the worst of them. He couldn't lose Dean; he couldn't.

He was so engrossed in his own thoughts, he didn't notice Bobby walking towards him until the other man was a few feet away. John's throat closed on itself, allowing no words to form. Bobby looked tired, a heavy burden weighing him down.

He finally looked up to meet John's eyes. "I found him Johnny, but…" Bobby's eyes filled with unshed tears, "….it's not good." John could have sworn the entire hospital had heard his heart plummet from his chest, breaking against the linoleum tile floors.

After several long minutes had passed, John finally managed to control his voice. "Where is he?"


	8. Chapter 8 Waiting

_Author's note:__ I apologize for the delay in posting a new chapter. I had a hard time writing it and then an enormous pile of work mysteriously materialized on my desk. _

_Phew! All that aside, the slow chapters are not my favourite to write but I hope I did it justice. Let me know what you think!_

_Kaze-Chan_

**Chapter 8**

"Get a line in here now." A young nurse quickly came around, inserting an IV into Dean's right arm while a doctor and another nurse examined the broken leg. The Emergency room was a flurry of action as everyone on the floor worked to stabilize the young man on the stretcher before them.

"Sir, can you here me?" With a penknife, another doctor checked on Dean's pupils and vitals. Receiving no response, he was quickly concerned. "We need to get him into MRI and X-Ray now. Where's his father?" A nurse checked the corridor for Bobby but only found empty chairs. Unwilling to wait and risk further complications, Dean was taken to the 4th floor for the necessary tests.

*****

John sunk deeper into the old waiting room chair just outside the ICU, waiting. Bobby had volunteered to wait with him, knowing it may be hours, but John was adamant about the other man staying with his youngest son. It had been 7 hours, 23 minutes and 49 seconds since Bobby had handed Dean over to the rush of medical personnel.

He knew he was tired but he couldn't bring himself to close his eyes. He didn't dare close his eyes, knowing his son's life could disappear just as fast. It was an irrational fear, he knew it, but he still couldn't help thinking about it. 9 hours, 8 minutes and 28 seconds.

By the time Bobby had managed to find John, Dean had already been whisked away to the surgical floor. Due to the severe damage to Dean's leg, the doctor's feared more permanent damage should they wait. It took 5 hours but they managed the repair the leg, grafting the bone back together with two metal pins. It would take some time before they could determine the full extent of the break and any lasting damage.

But that wasn't why Dean was in ICU. On the way to the hospital, Dean had fallen into a coma. At first, Bobby simply thought the young man had simply fallen unconscious but the ER doctors were quickly concerned. The Doctor's suspected brain damage caused by the concussion coupled with exposure and shock. They would know for sure after the MRI and once Dean woke up. For now, the tube through his nose ensured that Dean would keep breathing.

John leaned forwards in his chair, pressing his face into his hands. The ICU had limited visitation hours due to the severity of its patients. Thought the doctors had ensured him it was simply a precaution for a few days, John hated the thought of seeing Dean here. A young nurse with a sympathetic smile waved him into the quiet ward, her soled shoes gliding on the clean linoleum floor.

Without a word, John slumped into the bedside chair, unable to break contact with his son's face. The few times he had ever taken Dean to a hospital, his son had complained the entire time. But this was different; Dean wasn't moving. The bed was surrounded by beeping machines; small tubes connecting them to Dean. Slowly, John reached out and took his eldest son's hand.

Though unsurprising, he was slightly disappointed when Dean didn't even flinch. Letting out the deep breath he didn't know he was holding, John spared a glance at Dean's leg. The broken limb was encased in plaster and braces; the leg itself suspended in a metal frame. John's face pulled up in a grin. One good thing to come out of this, the doctor's had told him, was that Dean's leg would have a head start to heal while his body lay still in a coma. Personally, John would rather have Dean's complaining and moaning over this silence any day.

****

As the days passed, Sam quickly regained his strength. Each time he woke, however, it was Bobby he found sleeping in the chair next to him. It had been almost three days since he had seen his father or his brother. Though Bobby kept him updated each day, he would no doubt feel much better with Dean beside him; awake or not.

"Sam, stop eating yourself up about it." Sam's head snapped around to face the older hunter. "Your brother will be fine. You know Dean, he's as tough as they come." Bobby added a smiled for reassurance. Despite his best effort, Sam still looked like he wanted to charge up to the ICU to see his brother. "Hey, aren't you going to miss some school stuff or something?" Bobby asked, trying his best to distract Sam.

Sam eyes widened as something crossed his mind. "Ah shit, Jessica!" Bobby didn't have the chance to ask who that was before Sam was already dialling on his cell phone. Sam tapped his fingers nervously as he waited for the call to connect. "Jess, hey. I'm so sorry." Bobby figured this was a private call and so he took the opportunity to check up on John and Dean.

He easily found John slumped in the chairs in front of the ICU doors. Bobby silently took the chair next to his friend, mentally noting how pale the other man was. Dark circles had formed under his eyes and Bobby suspected the other man had hardly slept in the past few days. "By the look of ya, I take it there's been no change?" Bobby's low voice carried through the empty room.

John merely nodded. "The doctors say he's stabilized though. They're looking to put him in the same room with Sam." John was too tired to muster any enthusiasm in his voice.

"Well that's good news for once." Bobby couldn't wait to relay the news to Sam. Having both boys in one room, also meant he could keep an eye on all three Winchesters. After a few minutes, Bobby was allowed to go see Dean. As far as he could tell, there wasn't much change. Dean still looked the same to him as he did the day Bobby had carried him into the ER. As he stood by Dean's bedside, Bobby concluded he would rather have Dean's foul mouth comments than this unsettling silence.

As he made his way back to Sam's room, he did his best to concentrate on the positive; within the next few days, Sam would be able to see his older brother.

***

The next day, Dean was brought up to Sam's room. As expected, Sam fussed over his brother's well being, his face etched in constant worry. It was the first time Sam had seen his older brother since the Shifter had taken him. If he thought his brother looked thin and weak before, then this shell before him was simply that. Sam was cleared to be released by the end of the week, but both John and Bobby knew the younger man had no intentions of leaving just yet. John and Sam seemed to have fallen into a polite silence, where neither one would really speak directly to the other. The charade seemed to fool the hospital staff, but Bobby could see straight through it; it was only a matter of time before it all blew open. Unfortunately, Bobby knew all too well, it would likely be once Dean woke up.

Sam also received a surprise visit from Jessica. Thankfully, John and Bobby had gone out to finally bury the shifters. But for some reason, Sam couldn't help but feel like her presence here wasn't right. He had tried so hard to keep both worlds separate, but now all secrets were out on the table. He had never planned to tell his girlfriend about his past and so he hadn't prepared what exactly he would say.

Jessica, however, was more considerate and understanding than he could have ever thought possible. She left that night to return to Stanford. Though she desperately wanted to know what had happened since he suddenly left in the middle of the night, she was prepared to wait patiently. This was his life. So long as he was alright and safe, she would be able to wait till he got back home. She spared a glance at the two tired men she passed on her way to the elevators; one of them had the same eyes as Sam.

John and Bobby were asleep long before Sam was even tired that night. Many thoughts filtered through his mind but he was unable to sort them out. He wanted more than anything to just go back to Stanford with Jess but he also knew he wouldn't be able to leave Dean; not now. He let out a sigh, staring up at the ceiling.

"mmmmh…..jesus…chri……st…" At first Sam thought he had imagined hearing the low moan, but the shuffling on his left sounded too real to be imaginary. He sat up on his elbows to see over to his brother's bed, ignoring the slight pain in his abdomen.

"Dean?" Slowly, Dean's head turned towards his brother's voice. Sam watched in relief as his older brother's eyelids slowly slid opened, revealing unfocused but lucidly bright green eyes.

Dean cleared his throat, clenching his fists into the top blanket as the simple movement caused him pain. "….Smmy…." His voice was hoarse and barely a whisper. Though his mind was clouded with medication and his concussion, he was still aware of his surroundings.

Sam smiled and fought back tears of joy. "Yeah man, welcome back."


	9. Chapter 9 In charge of Dean

_Author's note:_ _It seems I've finally gotten over my writer's block. One more chapter and then I think it'll be the end. Hope this makes up for the lack of substance in the last chapter._

_Thank you for all the lovely reviews and comments everyone._

_Kaze-chan_

**Chapter 9**

"All spades Sammy, read'em and weep." Dean grinned as he showed his brother his hand of cards. Sam folded his own hand and dropped them on the small tray suspended they were using as a table. He was extra careful not to touch Dean's leg. Due of the complexity of the surgery, the Doctor's were unwilling to put a cast on his leg right away. The doctor's wanted to wait a few weeks to make sure there were no infection or other complications; they would then encase it properly. For now, material bandages and a sturdy metal frame held his leg still.

"That's it, you're cheating." Sam leaned forwards to check his brother's sleeves. Though weakly, Dean managed to swat his younger brother's hand away. It had been 2 weeks already since Dean woke up; showing continuous progress each day. At first, he would hardly be awake for more than a few minutes, but now he would spend the majority of the day with Sam. Sam smiled to himself as he sat on the edge of Dean's bed, reshuffled the deck of cards. He had been released from the hospital the previous week, but he couldn't leave his brother here alone.

Now that the boys weren't in any immediate danger, John Winchester had disappeared as was the normal routine. Bobby had gone back to his house to settle a few things but promised to be back in a few days. Honestly, Sam didn't really care if his father came back or not, so long as Bobby did. Dean leaned back against the pillows, pulling his hoodie tighter around him; well actually Sam's hoodie seeing as Dean didn't own one. Sam pretended not to be looking, knowing his brother normally squirmed under his gaze.

He would call Jessica every day and on week-ends she would make the drive to come visit. Dean could easily see why his younger brother was so attached to this girl. She was smart, funny but more of all she was more than the definition of an understanding girlfriend. As Sam passed out the new hand of cards, his long arm accidently knocked the table tray, sending Dean's uneaten apple flying. It bounced only once, hitting Dean's bandaged leg with a rezoning thud.

Instantly, Dean's face contorted in pain as his breathing hitched. "Christ…….shit." Curses escaped in rushed whispers through his clenched teeth. "Fuck Sam……" Dean's face paled and he looked like he was going to loose what little lunch he had eaten. Sam quickly shoved the tray aside, pressing the nurse call button at the same time.

"I'm sorry Dean. Hey Dean, come on…" Sam gripped his Dean's outstretched hand in his, Dean's tight grip instantly digging into his hand. Dean's other hand currently had a death grip around the metal side bar; his knuckles as white as the sheets. "HELP! SOMEONE!!!" Dean's eyes rolled towards the back of his skull. "Dean! Stay with me."

Nurses and doctors came rushing in, pushing Sam aside as they fussed over his brother. Before he knew it, he found himself outside watching them work on his brother. Eventually, one of the doctors came out to meet him; the same doctor that would normally do the afternoon rounds.

"Is he going to be alright?" Sam asked, his voice sounding like that of a child.

The doctor looked back towards Dean's now sleeping form before answering. "Yes, just a minor setback. His leg is very vulnerable at the moment; any small pressure can cause him enormous pain right now. We just need to be more careful in the meantime." The doctor placed a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder before heading back to his normal rounds. Sam waited until the hospital staff had cleared out before going back into his brother's room. That apple lay forgotten by the wall where it had rolled. If just an apple had done all that; he hated to imagine what else could happen. He shoved his shaking hands into his pockets as he watched Dean sleep. For some reason, it always unnerved him to see Dean either scared or in pain. It was just something he wasn't used too, something that wasn't normal.

That night Dean ran a fever and was plagued with what Sam could only assume was nightmares. Though no doctor would readily admit the cause, Sam knew what it was without a doubt. Come to think of it, he highly doubted their own father knew this. The reason Dean had a dislike for hospital so much was due to the medication they injected into his system; morphine being the worst of all according to Dean.

Though he never actually told Sam this, morphine would always give Dean high fevers and send his unconscious mind down that long corridor where he kept his worst nightmares. The doctors usual response was simply that this was a common reaction among patience; an answer that would frustrate Sam more than anything. It may be a normal reaction, but Dean's nightmares were anything but normal. Usually, Dean was able to maintain his mental barriers, even under extreme stress or pain. But morphine always seemed to seep by, leaving the door wide open for his worst fears to resurface.

When Dean woke up, he was paler than before; leaving the dark rim under his eyes clearly visible. He looked distant, almost like his mind was busy sorting things out. He nearly refused everything Sam tried to get him to eat and did his best to stay awake longer than he could. Sam knew Dean was trying to wait until the morphine had cycle through his system before getting some more sleep; Sam also knew it was lost cause, the dose would be coursing through his brother's system for another 24 hours or so.

***

"You can't be serious John." Bobby took a second to calm himself seeing as there was no use yelling over the phone line. "Dean still needs to stay in the hospital."

John continued packing his things into his bag. "He's been there too long already, they're starting to ask questions." His simple statement temporarily silenced the other man.

"Are you really that stupid?" Bobby barked back, his anger rising once again. "This is Dean we're talking about. Any small complication or infection can cost him the use of his leg!" John didn't bother answering. "You're lucky I'm not standing next to you, or else I may just shoot you in the leg see how it feels."

John's eyebrow arched in irritation as he stopped his packing. "Incase you've forgotten over the years, Dean is my son and I'll decide what's best for him." Bobby let you an exasperated growl before hanging up his cell phone, leaving an angry John Winchester throwing his things into his truck. As much as Bobby was a big help, John sometimes hated the man. The boys had a better father son bond with the other man than with their own father. He checked his watch and quickly calculated he would be at the hospital sometime after dark.

****

Dean was asleep again, his face twisted in some unknown horror and his hand gripped tightly onto his younger brother's, when John shuffled into the hospital room. Sam didn't bother turning to face his father. He was still angry at the man but didn't want to start a fight with him here at Dean's bedside.

"I signed all the paper work, Dean's being released tomorrow morning." The older man stated as a matter of fact, already starting to throw his son's little possessions in a duffle.

Sam took a second to process. " What? Why?!" It was hard for him to keep his voice even.

"There's nothing else they'll do here other than wait." John eyed his youngest sternly. "The longer we stay here, the easier targets we are."

Sam stared at his father in disbelief. "You're kidding right? Dean needs to stay in the hospital." Sam spared a glance at his brother, content to see he was still sleeping. Somehow he really shouldn't be surprised; this was typical John Winchester. Letting go of Dean's hand, Sam slowly got to his feet facing his father. "In case you haven't noticed, his leg isn't healed, it's not even in a cast yet. Come to think about it, you want to bring him where exactly, mmm? Or are you just planning to stash him somewhere on his own and go off hunting like always?"

John returned his youngest son's burning gaze, straightening to his full height. "Last time I checked, boy, you're the one who walked out on Dean; not me."

"Oh yeah, that's right. I forgot how stupid I was for wanting a normal life." Sam replied sarcastically. John quickly grabbed a fist full of Sam's shirt.

"You listen to me." John spoke in a grumble. "I call the shots here when it comes to Dean. Technically, you aren't part of this family anymore by your own choice. And you'd better watch your tone with me." Sam swallowed back his remark, knowing the last thing he wanted to do right now was have an all out brawl with his father.

The two were still staring each other down when Dean stired awake. His muffled mind failed to notice the hostility and the tension in the room, something that worried John a little. "Hey kid, how're you doing?"

Dean blinked back, a little confused at seeing his father there. "Been better." His voice sounded coarse. His tired eyes searched around for something, but when he didn't find it he opted to lean back into the pillows instead. Sam knew what his brother wanted and without a word, headed towards the small bathroom to get a cup of cold water. Dean barely hesitated when Sam handed it over to him. "Thanks Sammy."

"Yeah, no problem." Sam took the cup back from his brother and placed it on the bedside table, easily in reach. John watched his two sons. After a long look at his eldest, John could clearly see Sam was right. Dean was still too pale and tired easily. Dean's hazel eyes wandered up to his.

"What's wrong dad?" Dean finally asked. Sam sat down on the edge of Dean's bed, eyeing his father curiously, his anger far from gone. John's hard gaze shifted between Dean's slightly hazed green and Sam's angry brown.

As much as John hated to admit when he was wrong, he couldn't deny it this time. Dean was far from ready to leave the hospital. And even after he did, they didn't have a home. Dean wouldn't be able to move from hotel to hotel each night and John wouldn't be able to abandon is search for the demon.

"Nothing." John grounded out, dropping the duffle in the chair. "I've got some thing to take car of." Sam and Dean nodded in unison, much like they had when they were children. With one last glare at Sam, John turned on his heels and left.

"Why the hell did I even have kids." He muttered as he passed Bobby in the hallway, half to himself, half to the other man.


	10. Chapter 10 In the end

_Author's note:_ _I apologize to everyone for the long delay. I just seems like my workload increased exponentially to combine with my writer's block. This is the final chapter, finally!_

_Once and for all, thank you to all those who have read, favoured, commented and reviewed. It was much appreciated. If it weren't for your support, I wouldn't have written past the first chapter._

_Thank you!_

_Kaze-chan _

**Chapter 10**

Sam shifted in his chair, the stiff cushion offered limited comfort. Closing his eyes again, he tried to get some sleep. John had gone back to hunting; unable to give up his obsession for even a few months. Sam still got frustrated when he though of it. Both Bobby and Dean didn't seem to really care, however, something that would only frustrate Sam further. According to them, John's presence had never been a factor before and wouldn't now.

He heard the front step creek under someone's weight, the keys easily sliding into the lock. "Sam?" He relaxed at the sweet sound of her voice. Jess looked into the kitchen first then headed towards the living room. A warm smile spread across her face at the sight of both Winchester boys sleeping. When Sam first told her that Dean would be coming to live with them for a little while, she had her doubts. She knew nothing about Sam's personal life before Stanford. And now his seriously injured brother was coming to live with them.

She had always assumed the two brother's had nothing in common and lived in two different worlds; the main reason between the sibling rift. Now, however, it was clear they were one and the same. With Dean around, Jess saw a new part of Sam she never knew existed.

Sam and Dean had gone to Bobby's at first but the lack of nearby medical facilities soon had them all re-thinking their options. It finally came to the conclusion that Dean would go to Palo Alto and stay with Sam; at least for a little while.

Silently, she glided across the living room to the couch where Dean lay stretched out, his injured leg carefully supported by pillows. Jessica picked a fallen blanket from the ground and draped it over the elder Winchester.

"… hey, better not leave me for my brother." Jess looked up to see Sam smiling at her from his slumped position in the armchair. She finished adjusting the blanket and headed towards her boyfriend.

She smiled and leaned down to kiss him. "You know if I did, we could always end up on Jerry Springer." Her eyebrow arched mischievously, making Sam grin. Not wanting to wake Dean, Jess and Sam headed towards the kitchen.

"How's he doing?" She placed a hot cup of coffee infront of Sam and starting getting dinner cooking.

"Better." He stifled a yawn before taking a welcomed sip of the hot beverage. "But Physio-therapy always leaves him drained and tired." Jess nodded knowingly. Dean had physio-therapy three times a week for two hours to recover as much mobility in his leg as possible. The therapy was hard and sometimes painful but they both new it was the only his leg would heal properly.

When dinner was just about ready, Sam went to wake up his brother. After several attempts, his eyelids slowly slid open. "Hey, super's ready. Time to get up." It took Dean's tired mind some time to process what Sam wanted. He whipped the sleep from his face with his hand.

"Smell's good." One of the only ways you could judge exactly how Dean was feeling was by what he did; or in certain cases, what he didn't do. For example, Dean currently made no attempt to sit up or even move.

Ever since Dean had woken up from his coma, he was quiet and still. The old Dean would have done anything to hide his pain. Now, it seemed he wasn't up to the challenge. Sam was still adjusting to this new version of his brother.

Dean winced as pain shot up his leg. He wasn't a rookie to pain, but what he was feeling now was on a whole new level. Sam watched his brother before he quickly took out Dean's prescriptions and handed them to him, along with the glass of water that lay waiting. "Here, these should help." Dean glanced over but didn't extend his hand; he instead grimaced at the small pills.

"Nah, I'm fine. Thanks" He did his best to keep his voice even and confidant.

"Dean you need to take these." It was Sam's turn to control his voice. Lately his older brother was reluctant to take his medication. Sam watched as Dean fiddled with the blanket, clearly avoid something. "Why don't you want to take them?"

Dean let out a breath, hesitating. "It's just…." He worked to find the right words, a difficult task when the bone searing pain in his leg fought for his attention. "… I hate how they make me feel."

Sam's brows furrowed at his brother's words. This was one of those things the old Dean would have never admitted. "What do you mean?" Sam took a seat on the edge of the coffee table facing his brother, the pills still in his hand.

Dean glanced over but refused to meet his younger brother's gaze. They sat in silence while Dean concentrated on his attempt to massage the ache from his leg. "I don't know dude, they unsettle my stomach." Dean winced again in pain but he brought his other hand to his stomach, as if just the thought of the pills sent his stomach into summersaults. "They make me loose my appetite."

Sam hated seeing his brother like this. Hadn't Dean suffered enough already? He weighted the small pills in his hands, rolling them in his palm. "How about you eat a little bit first then take the pills?" Dean thought about it a moment before agreeing.

The three ate in the living room, making it easier for Dean to stay where he was. After they finished eating, Dean finally took his prescription pain killers. His stomach threatened to expulse what he had eaten but in the end, he managed to keep his meal down. Only when Dean was finally asleep did Sam also let his fatigue take him; settling back into the arm chair beside him.

***

"SAM!!" Dean rearranged his crutches under one arm and tightened his grip onto the stair railing. "Sammy! By the time you get here, I'm going to be up the stairs already." With slow tentative steps, Dean made it up the second step, sweat already accumulating on his brow from his efforts. Bobby watched patiently as he unloaded their luggage from the Impala.

Every instinct had him running to Dean's side; anything to help the kid. But after a few months of living with Dean, Bobby knew the kid just wanted to do things on his own again. Sam came running out at his brother's yells. In a few quick steps he was by his older brother's side, taking the crutches from him.

"You just couldn't wait, could you." Sam breathed out. Whipping the sweat from his brow, Dean gripped the railing with both hands; easily quickening his pace with Sam following closely behind.

Dean's grin widened as he caught the worried exchange between Bobby and Sam. "Between the two of you," He steadied himself on the step and looked back towards the two other men. "I didn't think I'd ever be able to get out of the house."

Though Dean was in good spirits, by the time he reached the front door his breathing was laborious and his leg had started throbbing again. Without a word, he made his way to the living room couch; the piece of furniture that had served as his bed for a few months.

Sam and Bobby watched from the hallway. In seconds, the eldest Winchester was fast asleep. This had become the normal routine. Dean was staying with Bobby now but twice a month, both Bobby and Dean would come up to Palo Alto to see Sam and see the physio-therapists. It didn't take long for this new routine to become their life.

"Have you heard from dad?" Sam asked once he and Bobby where in the kitchen.

Bobby slowly nodded in response. "No, not since last month." Sam filled them both a cup of coffee. In the silence, they could here Dean's even breathing from the living room. "How are you doing?" Bobby finally asked, eying Sam with concern.

Sam slumped down in the chair next to him. "I'm tired but okay." For the past 6 months Dean had been their top priority. It was only now that Bobby noticed what the entire ordeal had taken out of Sam. Rehabilitation had been hard on both of them and the hospital bills weren't cheap either.

John had called the older man a few times to ask how Dean was doing. For some reason, John would never call his youngest son; stupid Winchester stubbornness. In the end, they had stopped talking about their missing father.

"Hey Bobby?" Neither one of them looked up from their coffee cups. A deep silence filled the kitchen. "Do you think Dean will be alright in the end?"

Bobby took a long sip from his cup. From where they sat, they could just vaguely see Dean sleeping on the couch. "Sam, you know your brother better than anyone. He's the toughest person I know." This brought a small smile to his lips. "Beside, you know Dean. He's always fine; might have to stay away from electricity for a while though."

Both chuckled at the thought. Dean would be fine, Sam knew that; but some days it was harder to believe. The real adjustment they all had to face was the fact that Dean now had two metal pins holding his left femur bone together. They were both too engrossed in their own thoughts to notice that Dean had woken up.

"You two just going to sit there and let the cripple starve or what?" Dean's joking voice filtered through the apartment. "Come on, I'm hungry." A wide smile spread across Bobby's and Sam's faces at the sound of the elder Winchester.

"Yup, he's going to be just fine." Bobby reassured Sam.

-_La fin_


	11. Chapter 11 Epilogue

**Epilogue**

John stopped his rapid march and silently counted to 10 as he pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation; he found himself counting to _27_ instead. _27_ times and counting Dean had tripped over a branch, rock, his own feet, mostly anything and everything in his path. Though John had been the one to call his eldest son about the hunt, he certainly was regretting it now. _28_ John huffed as he waited for Dean to catch up.

By the tension in his father's stance, Dean knew what his father was thinking right now. Hell, he wasn't too pleased with himself either. Finally reaching his father, Dean leaned heavily against a tree, his left hand trying to massage out the deep ache that coursed through his leg. His breath hitched as he straightened up.

"I think we're getting close. Why don't you stay here and watch my back." Before Dean could reply, John had already resumed his determined march through the dense forest. Dean watched his father disappear before sliding down the trunk of the tree and coming to a sitting position on the cold ground.

As the clouds cleared, the moon sent slivers of light through the tree tops. Dean's laborious breathing more or less echoed through the still night. _Damn_. He really should have listened to Bobby. The cold breeze was both relaxing and soothing but with it came more humidity. Two years ago, Dean would have been the first to laugh at the thought of being crippled by humidity. But now, it was a reality.

When John had called two days ago asking Dean to back him up on this hunt, Dean was nearly jumping for joy; well jumping as much as his leg would allow. Bobby however didn't think this was such a good idea. Though he himself had gone on several hunts with Dean over the past few months, he was always mindful of Dean's limitations. Despite how much Dean would like to pretend he was as good as new, the truth was he wasn't. He never would be.

On most days he could get by with barely a limp. Most people wouldn't even notice. But on some days the pain was hard to ignore. They had quickly learned to keep an eye on the weather. Cold, humid days seem to hit him the hardest; the kind of weather you generally found in the Colorado wilderness. Add to that the 60 kilometre hike through rough terrain in the pursuit of some supernatural creature. Dean mentally shuttered at the thought of hiking back down this awful mountain.

He pulled his jacket in closer as a shiver coursed through him. He hadn't really noticed exactly how cold it was until he had stopped moving. He could feel the metal pins in his legs cooling; something which caused him more pain. Slowly, he searched his coat pockets, only to come up empty. _Shit._ He remembered leaving his painkillers in the pocket of his other jacket. He closed his eyes, fighting a losing battle against an army of small black dots, and leaned his head against the tree behind him, his hands trying in vain to warm his leg and ease the constantly growing ache.

The next thing he was aware of was the slow hum of the Impala; _shit_, he must have past out at the base of the tree. The crippling ache hadn't subsided and any thought of sitting up was quickly thrown out of his mind. Before doing anything else though, he worked to suppress the nausea.

"You with me kid?" It took a moment for Dean to place the voice. It had been years since Dean had heard his father voice laced with this much concern. John Winchester was not a man to show his emotions, even when it came to his children. But even with his eyes still closed, Dean could tell his father was worried.

He swallowed back the lump from his throat. "Either that or I'm dead." Though he meant it sarcastically, his voice did little to convey the message. He could sense his father's gaze surveying him. Finally feeling like he had control over himself, Dean dragged himself into a sitting position; sitting up against the door while his legs stretched out on the back seat.

As the two drove on in silence, something occurred to Dean. "Where's your truck?" Though John and Dean had often hunted together before, one thing that never changed was the fact that they always took their own vehicles. Dean needed anything to distract him from the night's events. It only took seconds for Dean to realize that looking at the blur of the country side zooming by outside did nothing to settle his stomach.

"Back at the trail." John spared his son a glance through the review mirror. Though he seemed fine and back to health before, a second look now told him otherwise. Dean was pale and slightly short of breath; but more troubling was the fact that it was apparent his leg was still hurting. Though John was still angry at the fact that Dean had kept this from him, he couldn't bring himself to show it; that's what had gotten them in this mess in the first place.

He glanced down at the passenger seat, his fingers digging through the pockets till he found the small white bottle of prescription painkillers, holding it out towards the back seat. "Here, Bobby told me you'd probably need these." _Great_, Dean thought as he took the offered bottle from his father. _Now Bobby knew as well_. Rolling the cylinder in his hand, he debated the idea of taking one. It was already a full time job keeping what was in his stomach down; he really didn't like the thought of adding the painkillers to the mix.

"Thanks" He instead decided to wait till they were no longer moving to take the small pills. He still didn't know where his father was driving them, but for the time being, it didn't really matter to him.

John watched his son slip back into unconsciousness. In one year's time, he had learned more about his eldest son than he ever knew before. To put it bluntly, he hardly knew Dean at all.

The sun was beginning to rise by the time John pulled into the salvage yard parking lot. Bobby was out the door in seconds, concern etched deeply into his face. He only relaxed and calmed once Dean was inside and resting comfortably on the couch. By then, however, the elder man could nothing to retain his annoyance and anger towards John Winchester.

"You stupid son of a bitch, are you trying to kill him?" The words escaped him with more bitterness than he had expected. Taking in a deeper breath, he reorganised his thoughts. "It's not like it used to be, John."

John whipped his tired face with his hand, slumping into the kitchen chair. Bobby Singer was one of the few people he considered a friend, one of the only people he trusted with his sons. "When did I lose him Bobby."

Bobby didn't answer right away, choosing instead to let the weight of the words hang in the air. Though he was an unofficial member to the Winchester family, Bobby often knew more about Sam and Dean than their own father did. On most occasions, this unvoiced fact would cause a rifted between the two men, but in emergencies or when either one was hurt, Bobby could always find a solution.

Bobby could tell John was silently blaming himself for all of Dean's troubles. It was cleat now wasn't the time for verbal battle of choice words Bobby had been saving. Glancing back at Dean's sleeping form, the garage owner made his way to the other empty chair.

"John, he'll be fine in a few hours." Bobby did his best to sound confidant.

"He's practically dead on his feet and he still won't tell me." Bobby got the distinct impression that wasn't meant for him. From where he sat, John could see Dean stretched out on the living room couch. The two men sat in silence; neither one needing to share what thoughts crossed their minds.

Not one hour later John was on the road again in one of Bobby's working cars, heading back towards the Colorado woods were he had left his truck. This time however, without Dean. Most people would only see a father abandoning his son once again. But Bobby knew this was more than that. It was a father leaving his son being in the hopes that he will be better off, safer.

When Dean finally woke up again, he didn't have to open his eyes to know where he was; there was only on place he knew that smelled like a mix between an old library, an incense shop and a garage. Forcing his eyes opened, he wasn't surprised to see Bobby sitting in the armchair next to him. "Home sweet home I guess." Dean smirked.

Dean let his eyes scan around the room, subconsciously looking for his father. He did his best not to look disappointed when he didn't see him. Bobby however knew that look all too well. "He's gone isn't he?" It was more a statement than a questions and Bobby simply nodded an answer. "Figers."

"So I guess it's back to just you and me, huh?" Bobby managed to get a smile out of the younger man. Remembering Dean hadn't eaten anything since the night before, Bobby headed towards the kitchen to find them something to eat. While Bobby worked in the kitchen, Dean managed to sit up. His leg was feeling considerably better; he concluded painkillers and warmth could do that. "_Yup, back to normal _

_La fin_

_Author's note :__ Now it's finally over; epilogue and all. Thank you to everyone for reading, reviewing and for the alerts. I wouldn't have continued and finished the story if it weren't for all your support and kind words. Hope this satisfies your thirst. _


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